Andriod Kikaider The Animation: His Real Love
by Cev
Summary: COMPLETE: Jiro and Mitsuko finally come to terms with their feelings. And unbeknownst to either, this was all Jiro ever needed to fufill his strongest wish: to be human. Sweet story, R&R!
1. Let it Snow

Machines cannot love. It is against everything that is correct in this world. Our world, so full of greed and power, there are so many humans that already do not love, so how can we expect a machine, the creation of greed itself, a thing to forever serve the lazy humans . . .how can we expect a machine to love?  
  
But I guess . . . things that are most unexpected happen.  
  
Especially to Mitsuko.  
  
And especially to Jiro . . .  
  
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His Real Love  
  
By Cev  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Android Kikaider, the animation, nor any of its characters. However, I DO own THIS story's plot, so please, don't SUE ME!!!  
  
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"Mitsuko? Mitsuko, are you all right?" A deep voice lifted Mitsuko from her light sleep, drifting into her mind, and pulling her out of her darkened state.  
  
"I'm fine, Jiro." She sat up, her dark, short hair falling into her eyes, free from the ever-present band she always wore, "How is Masaru? Is he sleeping?"  
  
Jiro sigh deeply and walked into her room, sitting himself in a chair beside her bed. Mitsuko's back was turned to him, and she lay there, looking out the window at the snow. Jiro's words echoed through her brain, 'Human lives aren't like snowflakes, they were not meant to fall into this world and just quickly melt away!'  
  
Mitsuko turned so she was facing the android, scrutinizing him from head to toe. He did not wear his regular attire, but rather, a black turtleneck, and a different pair of jeans that looked newer and cleaner. His eyes rested on hers, a faint glimmer of contentment glowing in them, mingled with his sadness. "You . . ." Mitsuko murmured.  
  
"Thank you for the clothes." Jiro said suddenly, hurried to change the subject.  
  
Mitsuko grunted her approval, and sat up in the small bed, looking thoughtfully at the shadows playing on the walls. "Masaru isn't taking it well at all, is he?"  
  
"He's been up all night, and he keeps looking at those boots." Jiro said, adverting his stare from Mitsuko to the window.  
  
A silence hung in the air, thick like smog. Mitsuko's shaking hand found its way to gently hold Jiro's. He looked up, shock written across his man- made face, looking at the girl in front of him curiously.  
  
"You always save me . . ." Mitsuko said, leaning forward towards Jiro, her head dropping in a defeated look. "Even though I've been so stupid . . .you've helped me and stayed by me."  
  
Jiro smiled softly, and gently caressed Mitsuko's cheek. She closed her eyes, trying to prevent the inundation of tears she knew were coming. "I stay with you and Masaru for a reason, you know."  
  
It was Mitsuko's face that was full with shock now. "A reason?"  
  
"I don't want to be me when I see you, Mitsuko," Jiro began. Mitsuko, a bit taken back, looked up at him, looking into his teary eyes.  
  
Tears?  
  
Again?  
  
But how is that possible?  
  
"Be you?" She asked softly.  
  
"I want to be something better. . . something more than I am now. You're the reason-" He cut himself off, trying to find his words. His looked down at Mitsuko, his whole face a twisted form of pain, confusion, and fear. But one look into her eyes was enough encouragement. He rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes, and both of his hands, naked from lack of gloves, caressing her face. "You're the reason I want to be human."  
  
Mitsuko's built up sobs came full force now, her tears streaming from her eyes. Jiro, quite taken aback, looked down. This wasn't the reaction he had expected. His stood, looking down at the distraught woman. "I'm sorry." He whispered, and made his way to the door.  
  
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So what'd you guys think? Yes? No? Maybe So? R&R so I can find out! 


	2. Be Realistic

Mitsuko's built up sobs came full force now, her tears streaming from her eyes. Jiro, quite taken aback, looked down. This wasn't the reaction he had expected. His stood, looking down at the distraught woman. "I'm sorry." He whispered, and made his way to the door.  
  
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His Real Love  
  
By Cev  
  
Chapter Two: Be Realistic  
  
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The snow piled on top of Jiro's face, he sat on the stairs outside of the building where they were staying, his shoulders slumped over and his head dropped, watching the snow between his feet, uncaring of the multitude of white powder that threatened to cover and suffocate him.  
  
But he couldn't understand.  
  
Why did she cry?  
  
Was she embarrassed because he told her that? But she's human, right? He's just . . . just . . . .  
  
"A machine," Jiro muttered, looking up into the city lights. Just a stupid machine. Damned forever. The snow fluttered down from Jiro, and the stiff android cried out in pain, grabbing his left shoulder. "What the hell?"  
  
Heat emancipated from the spot, and the thick cold metal that surrounded the area had suddenly become soft and warm. Jiro's eyes widened in amazement.  
  
What was happening to him?  
  
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Mitsuko's tears had softened to a silent whimper; her body shaking from unreleased sobs. She raised one shaking hand to her face, pressing it to her forehead, trying to grip herself into reality. Why had she cried in front of him? Jiro, who was always confused by her. Mitsuko's chest felt heavy and compacted, as if a great weight had decided to claim her diaphragm as a resting space. She wiped her now red face with the sleeve of her striped pajama shirt, and stared at the empty chair beside her bed. 'I'm such an idiot,' she thought, pulling her legs over the bed, and touched her bare feet to the cold floor. She flinched at its coldness, but stood, quietly opening her door, and walking into the dark hall.  
  
She had to find Jiro and explain to him. She didn't know why, but she had to, the look her gave her, looking down on her as he left, it just . . . broke her heart.  
  
The hall was black and the cold was biting. Why was it so cold in here? Wasn't the thermostat at eighty-five? What little light that had glimmered into a window in the hall from the city reflected off of some pale, unmoving object. Mitsuko crept towards the shadow-blanketed figure, knowing full well who it was.  
  
Jiro stared blankly at the hallway floor, leaned against the wall, his knees bent in front of him, and arms at his side. He noticed Mitsuko immediately, but he didn't want to move, didn't want to feel her there. She knelt in front of him, staring at his distant face with kind eyes, and a soft expression on her face. She placed a hand on his knee, and both of his legs collapsed straight on the floor. The soft back on her hand gently stroked his face, making him stiffen and break from his trance, his attention now fully on the girl before him. He sighed, something she had never seen him do, and took her hand from him, pulling it down, but still holding it tightly.  
  
"Jiro . . ." Mitsuko began, breathing in slowly, as if trying to calm herself, "I just want you to be yourself, I'm sorry I cried before, it was just because. . . it's *you* I love." She breathed out a long breath, looking down, her face flushed and aglow, noted by Jiro even through the dark.  
  
Jiro's eyes widened, looking at her with shock again placed on his face. He was imagining this, right? Nothing like this could ever happen, how could Mitsuko love him? A machine? And incomplete mass of metal!  
  
Jiro gasped, and grabbed his shoulder again. That damn heat from his left side, it seemed to cover him in a blanket, soothing his nerves. He inwardly chuckled. Nerves?  
  
His reverie was suddenly broken when Mitsuko's voice seeped into his fogged mind, "Jiro?"  
  
Jiro grabbed her face with both hands, staring at her with pleading eyes. She looked into him, confused. Oh, God, he needed her. He wanted her voice to always stay with him, for her dark eyes to always see him, always look at him kindly.  
  
"I want to-" Mitsuko was cut off from speaking, when Jiro's lips pressed against hers, surprising her most of all. She was taken aback even more, when she met them, and their warmth heated her trembling ones. "Jiro!" he gasped. He backed off and looked to her, still holding her face. The warmth from his shoulder had spread throughout his entire being the moment he had touched her. Her hand moved about him, fingering his soft hair, his lashes, his warm lips, his soft skin, warm to her touch. "Oh my gosh . . ."  
  
"What is it, what's wrong?" He asked dumbly, as if nothing had bothered him. She forced his hands away from her face and onto his, so as to feel the warmth that now glowed from him. "What . . . .?"  
  
"It's you, Jiro!" She quickly snatched his hand, and bit hard into the skin between his thumb and forefinger.  
  
"OWCH!" He yelled, backing away from her.  
  
"No, look!" She said, and held his left hand to his eyes. On the very spot where her teeth had sunk it, tiny scarlet rivers of blood dripped down and onto his black shirt. "You're now . . ." Mitsuko didn't finish, as if scared to say the word.  
  
"Human." Jiro breathed, looking down at her, and then feeling the blood from his hand. The Gemini? Was it possible for it to evolve so much?  
  
Mitsuko smiled with undying happiness, new tears forming in her eyes. Jiro looked at her, upset, "Oh, no, please, Mitsuko, don't cry again."  
  
"Baka," She said, throwing her arms around his neck, "You're crying, too."  
  
Jiro brought his bleeding hand to his face, feeling the saline tears that flowed from his eyes. Closing them, he smiled softly, pulling Mitsuko into his embrace, pulling her to the ground with him. Her face moved back; so that she could stare into him, watch his gaze drift into a whirlwind of emotions. He held her there for only a moment and then leaned his face towards hers, tentatively moving closer, as if scared to frighten her away. She smiled brightly, her tears slowly starting to disappear. "I can't believe this is happening." She mumbled, resting her forehead against his.  
  
"What do you mean?" Jiro asked, raising his hand behind her neck, not wanting to waste a second.  
  
"All of this seems so unreal . . . it just seems-"  
  
He grinned and cut her off, brushing his warm lips against hers. She gasped, the soft feeling making her heart skip. Jiro locked himself there to her, pulling Mitsuko closer to him. Mitsuko shook off her shock, and closed her eyes, enjoying his comforting embrace. She felt his tongue brashly against her mouth, needy and electrifying. She leaned against him, trying as ever to close the space between them, every centimeter between the two was like a mile, every inch an eternity. Jiro pulled her up, his hands finding their way beneath her shirt, pulling and pressing her against him, trying to suppress his need. She moaned softly, drinking him in and clinging tightly.  
  
Never stop.  
  
Never stop this world.  
  
This love.  
  
Jiro broke off abruptly, his breath ragged and quickened, but held onto the poor girl for his life. She smiled ear-to-ear, unable to repress this mammoth happiness that built in her.  
  
"Maybe it does seem unreal," Jiro finally whispered, looking deep into her eyes, boring into her, searching and searching into her depth, "But my love for you is real, and it exists as something organic, it isn't made, Mitsuko, it was born."  
  
His love?  
  
His real love?  
  
Mitsuko buried her face into his sweater, smiling and crying and laughing and sobbing.  
  
Jiro grinned, knowing full well now that her tears were not sad ones. Under the pale, thin moonlight they sat and held each other in the hallway floor. But the cold didn't touch them, didn't bite and didn't sting. It set aside its fury, and reveled quietly, at the sight: of a girl, and of a man.  
  
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Oh, this was so much fun to write! I'm sorry it's so short, but I like short and sweet. It keeps things low. Please tell me what you thought if you've set enough time aside to read this story, I'd very much appreciate it!  
  
Love~  
  
~Cev 


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